


Grognak the Barbarian: In the Lair of the Virgin Eater

by TaraTargaryen



Series: The Nuclear Option [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Destiny, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Fate, Fluff, Implied Relationships, Major Character Injury, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraTargaryen/pseuds/TaraTargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Directly after the events of Bad Behaviour, Paladin Danse and Knight Adams are in Goodneighbour. They meet Nick Valentine in the Memory Den and sift through the memories of Conrad Kellogg, trying to find a way into the Institute. When the Sole Survivor's past makes an ugly reappearance in the last place she ever expected, will she be able to carry on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grognak the Barbarian: In the Lair of the Virgin Eater

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse my title. I actually have written some fanfiction for Grognak in the past, but the unfortunate thing about comics is that they require detailed illustration and with my uni schedule there just isn't enough hours in the day. In the Lair of the Virgin Eater is actually a title from Fallout 3, FO:NV and Fallout 4. The only title unique to Fallout 4 I thought I could kind of relate back to this chapter was Grognak the Barbarian: In the Bosom of the Corsair Queen, but that is so convoluted even I had to make leaps to get it to fit with the story. Adeline Adams isn't much of a pirate. Coincidentally, that wasn't even a problem until now when I realized how much I love pirates. I cosplay as one, for crying out loud.
> 
> My other option was a play on words from Grognak the Barbarian: Demon Slaves, Demon Sands. I was going to call this chapter Grognak the Barbarian: Demon Fog, Demon Fight. If, once you have read all the way to the bottom of this chapter, you realize I'm a moron and that would have been a way better title (without spoiling anything for you it probably is), please don't hesitate to call me out on it.
> 
> Oh and if you are interested in reading my Grognak fiction I can probably turn those into short stories and post them anyway in my free time.

Despite just having taking out possibly the largest super mutant in the wasteland, Danse actually felt... _relaxed_ , he decided. He felt loose in his power armor, ready to take on an army of super mutants, or deathclaws, or anything, really. They had to take down a few mutant stragglers and some raiders along the way but mostly the walk was uneventful. He and Adams made it to Goodneighbour in good time. The atmosphere changed the minute they walked through the gates, and it was stifling. Shifting shadows were everywhere, making Danse uneasy. "Safety's off," he let Adams know quietly. "I don't like the looks of this place." He pretended not to see her roll her eyes. A hairless civilian lit a cigarette in front of them. Danse didn't like the way he was eyeing the Knight; like a piece of meat. 

"Hey, hold up there," the man took a drag, catching Adams' attention. "First time in Goodneighbour? Can't go walking around without insurance." 

"I'm listening." Adams put one hand on her hip, and leaned to the side, almost coyly. 

"Well, protection in Goodneighbour comes at a price. You hand over everything you got in them pockets or... _accidents_ start happening to ya. Big, bloody, _a_ _ccidents_." He sneered down his nose at the small woman.  

Adams and Danse reached for their weapons. 

 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out." A grizzled voice called from the shadows. Danse let out a barely audible hiss as he eyed the crinkled, dry skin and the bottomless black eyes. The newcomer was a _ghoul_. A sentient ghoul, undoubtedly; the kind that generally cruised under the Brotherhood's radar, but Danse had to forcefully restrain himself from turning it into an ashy puddle anyway. _And what the Hell is it wearing?_ He eyed it up and down. "Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap."  

"What do you care? She ain't one of us." Baldy scowled. 

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I said, let her go." The ghoul obviously called the shots around here. Danse was begrudgingly thankful he'd managed to stay his hand. He glanced at Adams, who was watching their banter with fascinated grey eyes.

"You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."  

"Come on, man." The ghoul drawled, stepping slowly towards Finn. "This is me we're talking about here. Let me tell you something," Danse caught a glimmer of steel slide out of the ghoul's ridiculous coat, and with a flick of his wrist thrust a knife stomach-deep into the bald man's chest, six times. "Why'd you have to go and say that, huh?" he dropped the body on the pavement, and blood began pooling around his boots. "Breakin' my heart over here." The ghoul, Hancock, smiled widely at Knight Adams. "Now I know you had ole' Finn handled back there, but a mayor's gotta make a point sometimes. You alright?" 

"She's fine." Danse stepped up to Adams shoulder; a menacing presence.  

"You. You're... a ghoul?" Her hand flexed on her gun cautiously and Danse's chest swelled. She had taken to the Brotherhood like a mirelurk to mud, contrary to his initial assessment. 

"That's right. Like my face? I think it gives me a sexy, king-of-the-zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies." Hancock gave Adams a once over with his eyes and winked. Danse felt ill. "Listen, lotta' walking rad-freaks like me around here so you might want to keep those kinds of questions on the low-burner for next time. Goodneighbour is of the people, for the people, you get what I mean. Everybody is welcome here." He glared over Adams' shoulder at Danse, clearly desiring to make an exception. 

 

"Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community. You stay cool, you'll fit right in here. So long as you remember who's in charge." He added, slightly threatening, and stalked off.  

Adams gave herself a little shake and turned to face him. "Right. Nick said the Memory Den is around the corner on the left." 

"Let's get on with it then. I don't want to hang around here any longer than we need to." He followed her through the alley, past a pub called the Third Rail and across the road. Danse was grateful the sign was so brightly illuminated. They met Valentine in the foyer, and he motioned for them to follow. A buxom, half-dressed blonde greeted the synth as they walked in.  

"Well, well, mister Valentine. I thought you'd forgotten about li'l ole' me." The blonde pouted. 

Valentine laughed. "Might've walked out of the Den, Irma, but I'd never walk out on you." He drawled. _Disgusting,_ Danse winced internally.  

"Amari's downstairs, you big flirt." Irma waved them away. Danse followed Adams and Valentine through the back and down the stairs.  

"Doctor Amari?" Valentine called out. 

"Yes?" A small, dark-eyed Oriental woman greeted them impatiently. "I take it this isn't a social call?" She looked pointedly at the two Brotherhood officers. 

"This one's all yours, Nick." Adams let Valentine have the floor nervously. 

"We need a memory dig, Amari, but this one's not gonna be easy. The perp, Kellogg, is cold on the floor." he explained, apologetic. 

"Are you mad?" Amari's hand flew to her chest, aghast. "Putting aside the fact that you're asking me to _defile a corpse_ , you do realize that the memory simulators require intact, _living_ brains to function?"  

"Please." Adams stepped in front of Valentine, clasping her hands. "Please help me. Nick told me you're the only one who could make this work."  

 

The desperation in her voice saddened Danse. _If this Amari can't help her, I will find someone who can. Maybe Quinlan would know where we could find someone._ He opened his mouth to interrupt. 

"This dead brain had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari. The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth. You need this, and so do we." Valentine was urgent and firm.  

Amari pursed her lips. "Fine." She said finally. "I'll take a look, but no guarantees. Do you... do you have it with you?" She eyed Adams distastefully. 

Adams hesitated, handing over the cybernetic implant. "Here's... what I could find." 

"What's this?" Amari snatched at it. "This isn't a brain! Wait. What? This is... That's the hippocampus!" She held it up to the light. And this thing attached to it. A neural interface?"  

Danse's jaw dropped. Adams had just been carrying that around? He wondered if he could have it back when Amari was done. Quinlan would pay dearly to get his hands on that level of technology, _especially_ if it was from the Institute.  

"Those circuits look awfully familiar..." Valentine took off his hat and scratched his head sheepishly. 

"I'm not surprised. From what I've seen, all Institute technology has a similar architecture." Amari eyed the synth curiously. 

"Go on, doctor?" Adams prompted hopefully. 

"Mister Valentine is an older generation synth. But Institute technology being what it is... The brain implant could fit him. But that's an incredible risk. We're talking about wiring something to his _brain_." 

"Don't worry about me, Amari. I'm well past the warranty date, anyway." Valentine's mouth twisted into a grin as he ignored Danse's derisive snort. Adams shot him a withering glare. 

"Are you sure?" Adams placed a gentle hand on Valentine's shoulder and Danse tensed. Soulless yellow eyes met concerned grey ones. 

"You saved me down in vault one-fourteen. Let me repay your kindness, Adeline."  

She considered it slowly. "Okay, Nick. If you're sure. I appreciate this."  

"Thank me when we've found your son. Alright." He steeled himself, turning towards Amari. "Let's do this." 

 

"Whenever you're ready, Mister Valentine, just take a seat." Amari replied gravely. Danse blinked in disbelief. The synth's actions were utterly selfless. It boggled the mind, what kind of programming, what kind of ulterior motive lay beneath. It made him angry, almost. How it could give Adams, who'd lost her entire world, such empty, meaningless hope? He looked at his knight, eyes tight around the corners with concern for the synth, brimming with mixed emotions. _You're doing it to find a way into the Institute,_ he had to remind himself. _Everything else can be dealt with afterwards._ He took a deep breath, quietly, out of Adams' earshot.  

"If I start cackling like an old grizzled mercenary, pull me out okay?" Valentine was joking with the women.  

"Let's see here," the doctor began her procedure with a pair of pliers in one hand and a screwdriver between her teeth. "I need you to keep talking to me, mister Valentine. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire. Are you feeling any different?" 

"There's a lot of... flashes... static... I can't make any sense of it, doc." he sounded far away, even to Danse. 

"That's what I was afraid of. The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute has installed one last fail safe. There's a lock on the memories in the implant." She looked up at Adams. 

"Is Nick okay?" She wiped her eyes quickly. Amari nodded.  

"Is there a way past this, doc?" Valentine asked. 

"Let me think." Amari took a step back, surveying the synth. "The encryption is too strong for a single mind. But... what if we used two?" She looked up, eyes shining with curiosity. "We load both you and mister Valentine into the memory loungers. Run your cognitive functions in parallel. He'll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find." 

"Let's do it." Adams balled up both her fists and started for the second lounger. 

 

"No." Danse spoke finally. Three pairs of eyes turned to him. "I'll do it." He looked squarely at Adams. She was already shaking her head.  

"No. Absolutely not."  

"Why? You're looking for your son. You want to find him, don't you? Wouldn't you prefer not to have scrambled eggs for brains when we do?" Danse argued. 

Adams scowled. "It's got nothing to do with that." She snapped at him. "I'm already putting Nick's entire life on the line by subjecting him to this. I won't lose another friend today if I have to lose any at all."  

Danse was taken aback. _Who knew she felt that way?_ "Are you absolutely sure about that?" He eyed the wires poking out of Valentine's head. 

"You owe it to me to see this out. Why else would you ask me to join the Brotherhood? Why would you agree to be my sponsor?" Adams cheeks were flushed with the heat of her own argument. Danse had never seen her back down from a fight and he doubted he would now. "I need you to have my back here, Paladin. Don't let me down."  

Her pleading struck a chord with him. "Alright. I'll be here. I'll see you on the other side." He wanted to place a comforting hand on her shoulder like she'd done with Valentine earlier, but that would be toeing the line with protocol.  

"Let's get started." Adams turned back to Amari.  

"Just sit down over there. And keep your fingers crossed. Both of you." She glanced at him. 

 

Danse gave Adams a hand up into the machine, though he could barely feel her delicate grasp through his heavy gauntlet. She settled herself into the plush leather, looking around nervously. "It's not too late to change your mind." He told her seriously. 

"I need to do this." Her reply was quiet, but serious. Danse studied her face. There was fear, and curiosity, and intense longing, for her son, most likely. He nodded slowly, stepping away as the doctor approached. Amari applied some sticky plugs to Adams' temples, and closed the lounger door. Danse could still see her, slightly distorted through the glass.  

"We can watch what she's seeing over there," Amari pointed to a computer screen. "And her vitals are on your right."  

 

**P L E A S E  S T A N D  B Y**  

 

"She must mean a lot to you, to volunteer like that." The doctor told him, a note of approval in her voice. 

"There aren't many people I trust." Danse replied. "Not like her."  

"Does she know how you feel?" The other woman asked. 

"Of course she does," he answered, surprised. 

Amari raised an eyebrow. "I don't even think you know." She told him cryptically, returning to her work. "Initiating brain-wave migration between the transplant and the host," she announced. "Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant... it's degenerated, but it's there! We're going to load you into the strongest memories we can find. They might not be..." Amari fiddled with some things. "...stable... just hold on..."  

The computer screen fizzled, and Danse glued his eyes to it. He could make out vague shapes.  

"Can you hear me?" Amari was wearing her own interface, sitting legs-crossed at her terminal. "Ah, good. The simulation appears to be working, although the memories are quite fragmentary. I'll try to step you through the intact ones, and hope we find some kind of clue that will lead to the Institute's location."  

Colors came into focus, a messy artwork of greens and blues and purples. "What is this?" Danse asked, interested. 

"You're seeing everything she is." Amari told him. He looked at Adams in the lounger. She looked relaxed, almost as if she were asleep. "There. This is the earliest intact memory I can find." 

Adams' eyes followed a trail of oddly-shaped purple blurs as a room came into focus. A young boy sat on his bed, reading a comic book. A woman sat nearby in an armchair, with the radio on, Danse could tell, from the yellow light it gave off. "Remember, you are experiencing these memories as Kellogg. This may prove disorientating at first." Amari added soothingly into her interface.  

 

Amari's face twisted. "What is it?" Danse demanded. 

"The young boy... that's Kellogg. You can't hear on that terminal I'm afraid. His father is screaming from behind the door... obscenities... slurs... calling the woman names, telling her he's going to kill the boy. Abusive parents." Amari shook her head. 

_At least he had parents,_ Danse thought rather rudely, and then chastised himself. He watched the boy's mother pass him a gun. The boy aimed it crudely. "I hope the safety's on," Danse muttered. 

"This doesn't seem to be what we're looking for," Amari sighed. "There appears to be another memory close to you in temporal sequence." She tapped away at her keyboard. "There. Try that one." 

Adams followed another blurry purple trail towards another room. There was a man in a leather jacket, and a pretty woman. There was a crib near them, with an infant in it as well, Danse realized. _Shaun?_  

"That man is Kellogg, and his wife." Amari let him know. She looked down, distracted. "Kellogg had a daughter?"  

_Not Shaun then._  

"So, he runs with the Shi, for work. Impressive. Oh look, that's San Francisco out the window," Amari was engrossed in the memory. 

"Do you suffer from... voyeuristic tendencies, Doctor Amari?" Danse wanted to know. 

She chuckled. "I wouldn't call it suffering. I can definitely say I enjoy my work, though, Paladin." Danse returned his eyes to the memories. The couple moved to the table, and Kellogg pulled his gun out. Not menacingly, he decided, perhaps explanatory. He was teaching her something. _Do you think a man would leave his pregnant wife home alone in the middle of a War without a way to protect herself?_ Adams had asked once, when he inquired as to how she got so good with a gun. Danse had no family, he had the Brotherhood of Steel; and he didn't know how to answer her. The man strode across the room and picked up the infant, fatherly pride all over his face. He watched the man cradling the child tenderly, and wondered what that felt like. 

 

"Let's keep looking." Amari said impatiently. "I'll connect you to the next intact memory."  

Kellogg strode down a long, narrow corridor, face terse.  

"Oh... oh no..." Amari's hand fluttered to her throat. 

"What is it?" 

"Someone... he was double-crossed. They kidnapped his wife and child and murdered them both, in cold blood..." The doctor closed her eyes. Danse watched the man kick down the door, raising his weapon in anticipation of a fight. "I found another memory to try. I'll connect you," she said hastily into her interface. Adams' heart rate increased perceptibly, and Danse glanced at her. Her fingers were twitching softly, but her face still looked relaxed. On the terminal screen, Kellogg sat in a bar, and was approached for two men. "Oh, the gun-for-hire approach. My family's been murdered, I'm going to kill people for a living. How original." Amari muttered, rolling her eyes. "Well, we seem to be getting closer. Try this next one."  

A woman in a white coat sat a desk, flanked by Gen 1 synths. Adams' heart rate increased again.  

"The Institute," Amari breathed.  

"What's happening?" Danse watched the screen. The man and the woman were just... talking. 

"Some kind of interview," Amari shook her head. The synths suddenly attacked, all three at once. Kellogg took them out with an ease Danse was almost envious of; using one as a shield, and shooting the other two out before finishing off the first with a round between the ears. He let out a low whistle, which went ignored by Amari. "Getting warmer. One of these has got to tell us something. We're running out of brain here," she added dubiously. "Oh, ah, there's one that looks mostly intact. Connecting now."  

 

Adams heart rate went up again, as did her blood pressure. "What's this?" Amari muttered, glancing at the medical interface and back to her terminal. Kellogg was flanked by two people wearing heavy enviro-suits, Danse recognized. "… they're 'disrupting cryogenic stasis'?" Amari looked at Danse, curious but unfazed. Danse's heart stopped. 

"Amari, I don’t think this is a good idea," he started to say. Kellogg and the suits walked down a corridor lined with suspended stasis tanks, to the very end. The suits opened the second last tank. A sizable man writhed inside, slowly coming back to life. There was a baby in his arms; a shock of ginger hair tufting out across its forehead.

Behind him, Adams let out an inhuman wail, her heart rate and blood pressure spiking dramatically. Danse stormed over to the lounger, looking for a release. "Ger her out of there. Now!" He demanded. 

"I can't!" Amari was stricken. "If I pull her out now she will almost definitely be left with some serious level of brain damage! I can't take that kind of risk!" 

Kellogg held a gun to the man's head as one of the suits wrenched the baby from his arms. Adams' heart-breaking cries became deafening. She scratched against the glass with her fingernails, then pounded against it with her fists. Amari and Danse sat in stupefied silence, watching, feeling helpless. A single tear trailed down the doctor's cheek. Danse looked away. On the terminal, he saw Adams, being locked back down into cryogenic stasis. The grief on her frozen face matched the grief she wore presently. She had been trapped in there, the whole time. Forced to watch her husband die; and her baby taken away. She lay silently in the lounger again, her breathing rate still raised. Danse didn't blame her. He suddenly felt as though he'd witnessed something, too private for his or Amari's eyes to see. Knight Adams' anguished howls would haunt his waking hours as well as his dreams, he already knew. The hollow, dead-eyed look he sometimes caught on her face made sense to him now. _I'll bring the boy back myself, if I have to,_ he vowed. He'd do anything. 

 

"I'm, uh," Amari sniffled, disrupting Danse's vengeful reverie. "I'm sorry you had to live go through that again." She wiped her face with her hands, streaking moisture across her cheeks uselessly. "I've found another intact memory. When you're ready." 

Slowly, Adams headed across another purple neural bridge. Kellogg sat in a room, cleaning his guns. A young boy played in the corner. The heart rate monitor hiccuped a little. 

"Is that... your son?" Amari exhaled. Danse's head snapped back to the terminal. The boy's hair was the same shiny copper as his mother's. "My God, it is!" She crowed. "This appears to be a very recent memory, so... good news, I think." A tall, dark man appeared suddenly. His garb seemed to be so black it absorbed the light around it. He even wore sunglasses indoors. "A courser!" Amari gasped. The dread in her voice chilled Danse to the bone. "Doctor Brian Virgil." She looked at Danse. 

"Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?" He asked testily. 

"He's a scientist that escaped from the Institute. This Coarser is telling Kellogg to hunt him down, in the Glowing Sea." The men exchanged paperwork inside the terminal, still talking. Danse began forming a plan. The dark man took the boy from Kellogg, and they vanished into thin air, nothing but a blue plume of light marking their departure. "Teleportation," Amari wondered aloud. "Now it all makes sense. Nobody's found the entrance to the Institute... because there isn't one." Danse met her black eyes seriously. "Let me pull you of there," she announced into her interface. As soon as you're ready..." She tapped away furiously at her terminal, and turned to Valentine, escorting him from the lounger.  

 

Danse took a seat across the room. Knight Adams' face was contorted with stress. Her eyelids were flickering wildly and her fingers seemed electrified. Amari returned, and began unplugging Adams. "Slow movements, okay? I don't know what kind of side effects the procedure might have had. No one has ever... done this before." The doctor explained anxiously. Adams groaned, pressing a hand over her eyes. "How do you feel?" 

"I'm... okay, doctor. Thank you." Danse seriously doubted that, but he let it slide. 

"That's good, but I want you to keep monitoring yourself. We have to be sure there's no long-term damage. Are you..." Amari hesitated. "Ready? To talk about what happened in there?" 

"There's more than one person who knows about the Institute. Virgil, that scientist who escaped..." She trailed off, turning one hand over and over in front of her eyes curiously. 

"I didn't know Institute scientists could defect. This changes everything. He could answer all sorts of questions!" Amari's face flushed with excitement. Danse frowned. "Where did the memory say he was? The Glowing Sea? That can't be right... no one would risk going there, not even to hide." 

"That's why he's there. To make the Institute think twice about following him." Danse told them knowingly. 

Amari nodded her agreement. "That must be it. He's using the radiation in the Glowing Sea like a shield, or a cloak. To throw them off and give him an advantage. If Virgil found a way to survive out there, you'll have to do the same if you're going to follow him." 

"How do I fight that much radiation, doctor?" The Knight sounded desperate. 

"There are chemical compounds. Rad-X, RadAway. You'll need as much as you could carry. Maybe more." 

"Power armor?" Danse quipped, annoyed.  

"That would be perfect!" Amari tapped her forehead. "Good luck. And be safe."  

 

"Oh, by the way, I unplugged mister Valentine first and removed the implant." Amari added as they turned to the door. "He's waiting for you upstairs." Adams increased her pace. Irma was fast asleep on her settee, as far as Danse could tell. She might have been pretending. 

"Nick?! Are you still in there?" Adams had grabbed the synth's shoulders forcefully. Danse rushed to her side. 

"What? What are you talking about?" He shrugged her off, uncomfortable.  

"You... sounded like Kellogg, just then." Adams looked frantic. Danse glared at Valentine with narrowed eyes.

"Did !?" Valentine seemed unconcerned. "Amari said there might be some 'mnemonic impressions left over. Anyway, I feel fine. Want to get going?" He shrugged. Danse cleared his throat. 

"I need to go back to the Prydwen to pick up my power armor. This is Brotherhood work, Nick. I need to stay with my commanding officer." She told him gently. 

"Not a problem," the synth smiled, which didn't sit well with Danse. "I'll head back to Diamond City. You should pop over and let me know how it goes. Take care of yourself, kid." He stood up to leave. "Paladin Danse," he acknowledged. 

"Valentine." Danse replied through gritted teeth. 

 

Danse and Adams left Goodneighbour, heading for Boston Airport. The knight was quiet, introspective. "Would it be possible to speak... off the record, for a moment?" Danse asked hesitantly. 

"'Off the record'? That's not like you, Danse." Adams didn't look up.  

"Which is why this is going to be difficult for me to say, so I'd appreciate if you bear with me." His voice came out gruffer than he'd intended. "When you were first placed under my sponsorship, I had some serious reservations about it. Despite all that, this has turned out to be a rewarding experience. For both of us, I hope. At this point I honestly don’t feel like there's anything else I could teach you about being a Brotherhood soldier that you don't already know. It's apparent from your attitude and your ideals that you intend to keep those ideals close to your heart." _Well, except for maybe one certain Diamond City synth. Who we needed. To find out how to get into the Institute._  

"You're beating around the bush, Danse." Adams turned around. She looked exhausted. "What is it you're trying to tell me?" 

Danse felt his face fall. "Is it that obvious?" She nodded. "I've... never been very good at this kind of thing. Let me start at the beginning. I... grew up alone in the Capital Wasteland. I spent most of my childhood picking through the ruins and selling scrap. When I was a bit older and had a few caps to my name, I moved to Rivet City and opened up a junk stand. While I was there, I met a guy named Cutler. We got along pretty well; watched each other's backs and kept each other out of trouble. When the Brotherhood came through on a recruiting run, we felt like it was the best way out of our nowhere lives, so we joined up." 

"Rivet City?" They kept walking, albeit slower, until they found a bench. Danse plonked himself down heavily, glad to get off his feet. Adams curled her legs up under herself. Danse tried not to get lost in her soft, grey eyes, and continued.  

"It was a settlement built inside the remains of a beached aircraft carrier. One of the safest places to live in the Capital, until the Brotherhood of Steel arrived, anyway." He grinned at the memories. "It was the perfect location for me to try my hand at being a merchant." 

The knight stretched, closing her eyes. "I'm glad you had great ambitions than just... selling junk." She murmured softly.  

 

Danse looked down at her. _It would be so easy to just... scoop her up, and hold her for a while._ "Once I saw what the Brotherhood had to offer, there was no comparison." She smirked. He felt she shared his sentiment, perhaps. "Anyway, about a year after we were posted to the Prydwen, Cutler vanished on a scouting op. It took some convincing, but I was able to persuade my CO to let me assemble a squad and search for him. It took almost three weeks, but I tracked him and his team down to a super mutant hive, in vault eighty-seven. Those wretched abominations had slaughtered everyone but Cutler. He should have been so lucky." He paused. A cool wind blew around them, stirring Adams' hair. The copper strands had grown back to just past her chin, and he wondered what she would do if he leaned forward to tuck them away. "The mutant bastards used their F.E.V. to turn him into one of _them_." 

"I'm so sorry." The compassion Adams offered Danse threatened to overwhelm him. 

"He wasn't... he wasn't Cutler anymore. I had to... it was my duty... I put him down. I had to." 

"You did the right thing." 

"It's what I was taught. I... don't know if it was right." He thought of Valentine, acting selfless. Was it an act though? He couldn't say. "Ever since Cutler died, I've seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest. Hell, some were even downright _heroic;_ but I'd never considered any of them to be a good friend, a friend like Cutler was. Until now." 

Adams smiled up at him, roses blooming in her cheeks. He couldn’t help but return the expression. "It's a good feeling," he continued. "But it frightens me all the same. Having a bond with someone, then losing them... it changes you. I don't want to go through that again." 

"That's just what we risk... when we let someone else in." Adams replied gently. Danse thought about what he'd witnessed in the Memory Den. He had seen her painfully exposed. "But it would never be that way with me. I care about you too much to let that happen." 

 

Her response surprised him; surprised them both, he thought. "I... I didn't know you felt that strongly about our," he swallowed. "Well, about _us_." They sat there silently, letting the word hang in the air, neither daring to disturb it. "I'm sorry if I seem confused." _Us._ "You've certainly given me something to think about." _Us._ Adams shrugged, looking out over the water, a tiny smile on her lips. "I just thought you deserved to know. How I felt." He added. "If you feel that I've overstepped my bounds, I completely understand." He got to his feet in a hurry. "Whatever the case may be, I appreciate that you took the time to listen. We should keep going, try to make it back before dark." 

 

- 

 

As they disembarked from the vertibird, Danse felt his stomach growl. "Shower, then mess." Adams announced.  

"Outstanding assessment, Knight." He agreed. He retrieved his towel and a clean uniform from his quarters and headed for the locker rooms. He pulled rank and pushed in front of two knights, only feeling the tiniest bit guilty. He washed his hair with Adams' soap, marveling at how much more dirt and grime and sweat he got off with it than hot water alone. The fresh smell made him think of the Knight's hair; the way the sunlight had glinted off it all afternoon as they crossed Boston together. Us. The word was becoming intrusive; an accusation, almost. He held Adams in high esteem. Higher even than Maxson, apparently; given that he had left Nick Valentine, an  _Institute synth_ , alive. Still, the creature had been prepared to sacrifice its existence for Adams, and Danse was prepared to let it continue living, until it proved itself untrustworthy. _I might go back for the ghoul though,_ he thought absently. He dried himself thoroughly, barking at three young initiates that were ogling some smutty magazine or other in the corner, _loudly_.  

He sat himself next to Knight-Captain Cade in the mess, tearing open a lukewarm MRE. "Heard you've made headway on the Institute's location," Cade announced quietly, sounding impressed. 

Danse shook his head. "No known location. They've gone underground, the only way in or out is through teleportation." 

Cade whistled. "That's a doozy. Gonna take some brains to crack that one," he chuckled. 

"I'm glad it's Quinlan's job and not mine," Danse agreed jokingly. He watched Adams appear, dirt-free in a freshly pressed uniform at the end of the mess line. 

"Have you slept with her yet?" Cade's eyes followed Danse's. 

_Us._ "Fraternization is prohibited in the field, book one, chapter six, paragraph nine." The paladin quoted. 

The medic snickered. "Good grief, you can cite the rules better than Quinlan." He rolled his eyes. "She's attractive, healthy. You're twenty-six, Danse, but sometimes you act like you're forty. Do I have to remind you how many squires still call Proctor Teagan dad? And he's only fifty-three."  

 

Danse reddened, and shoveled more food in his mouth. Cade waved Knight Adams over. "Well, now." A familiar voice called from somewhere behind Danse. "Wondered when I'd see you again."  

Adams' face lit up like sunshine after a radstorm. "Paladin Brandis!" She dropped her food off on the table and embraced the old paladin like a brother. "Welcome back, Paladin. Welcome home." The warmth in her voice was quietly touching. 

"Come on, take a seat. You're making Danse jealous." Cade laughed. Adams met his eyes shyly, the barest hint of a blush creeping across her cheeks.   

"It would take a lot more than a hug to get a reaction out of this one," she grinned at Cade, and started on her food. 

"You're not wrong," Brandis agreed, raising his eyebrows at Danse. 

"Welcome home," he told the other paladin gruffly, too pleased to bother with the Knight-Captain's comments. 

"I am so glad to hear someone say that," the older Paladin sighed. He turned to the knight. "Listen, I didn't have a chance to thank you properly before. I'm not sure I still have a place here; maybe I've been away too long. Not sure I'm cut out for the Brotherhood anymore." 

"Give it time," Adams and Cade both said at the same time, and smirked at each other. 

"I will. I owe it to you. And my team." He looked around the table. "Thank you for giving me another chance." 

Together they reminisced for a few hours, sharing a bottle of whiskey when it was passed around. There were tears of laughter all over the table, interspersed with somber moments of silence for the fallen.

Adams stood up first. "I don't mean to ruin our wonderful evening, gentlemen, but I've got an important mission tomorrow and I'm sure my CO will want me up early," she winked at Danse. 

"Boo!" Cade rapped his knuckles on the table. "Boo, Paladin Danse!" All three men erupted into heavy guffaws, earning some glares from the initiates at the next table.  

"Keep it down, you three," Adams shook her head, and they watched her leave.  

"You are a lucky man, Danse," Cade's eyes followed the sway of Adams' butt as she left the room. 

"I've been getting that a lot lately," he replied pleasantly, yawning.  

 

Brandis yawned, too. "Guess I can't quite keep up with the spry young folk anymore," he scratched his head. "I'll be off to bed too. Knight-Captain; Paladin." 

"Time to call it a night," Cade agreed, getting up as well.  

Danse bid his colleagues goodnight and headed for his quarters, deliberately going the long way, so as to pass Adams' bunk. She was already asleep. Her hands were tucked up under her pillow, but her holotape was lying on top of her foot locker, untouched. He kept walking, down another floor to the officer's quarters. Maxson's light was on, and Danse peered in. The young Elder was hanging a frame on the wall above his desk. Piercing blue eyes looked coyly down at Danse from underneath long, dark lashes. Shiny hair, the color of fresh mud, framed the woman's face. 

"What do you think?" Arthur stepped back. 

"Does it make you feel any better?" Danse asked, tearing his eyes away from the photograph to look at the young man. 

He studied the portrait intensely. "I wish she was here. Every minute of every day. The Brotherhood of Steel is my entire life, but it's so god damn lonely. I have no friends, only subordinates. People to kiss my boots and lick my ass." He sighed. "Maggie would just tell me to build a bridge." 

"Why did they call her the Lone Wanderer?" Danse asked suddenly. "She had her dog and she had Fawkes and she had you. She was never alone." 

"We all failed her. Her father abandoned her, then killed himself to save us all. The dog was killed by raiders. Owyn and Sarah both died. Liberty Prime got blown up. Fawkes led her to her death, and I couldn't save her in time. Maggie died alone, tortured by super mutants, thinking that no one was coming to save her. I don't know if I could have... followed your example. If the F.E.V. hadn't killed her, I don't know that I would have had the strength to do the right thing."  

Danse had never considered that. _It was what it was,_ he'd never considered the _what-ifs_. Maybe his life would have been easier if Cutler had succumbed to F.E.V. poisoning. Maybe that was why Arthur looked perpetually wounded, hounded by his personal demons; he knew that the Elder had once looked up to him. Possibly still did. "Goodnight, Paladin." Arthur saluted as he left. "Ad victoriam." 

 

- 

 

Knight Adams was on the ground waiting when Danse reached Boston Airport in the morning. "We're being deployed on the edge," she shouted over the _whir_ ring of the 'birds. That cheered Danse up immediately.  

"How'd you swing that?" He yelled back.  

She shrugged. "Don't know. Elder Maxson let me know this morning." 

The transport vertibirds didn't have passenger side miniguns, and Danse ended up strapped in behind Adams. The soapy scent from her hair put him at ease, and he spent the ride enjoying their proximity. It would have been so easy to rest his head on her shoulder, or wrap an arm around her waist, even in power armor. As they stood together outside the radiation zone, he felt her mood shift. 

"This is where the bombs fell." Adams' voice was hushed; Danse couldn't tell if she was making a statement or asking a question. "This is... this is _awful._ " She looked around, at the dead land.  

"This is the wasteland, Adams. This is what it's like out here." He told her quietly. "This is the worst of the worst." 

"All my... everything I ever... it's really all gone. It's really... all gone." She looked up at the sky, dazed.  

"Hey," Danse grabbed her shoulder. "Snap out of it, Knight. I need you at your best out there." He ordered. 

"Right. You're right. My apologies, sir." The began making their way forward. At least they saw the first radscorpion coming. It wasn't big, but it tunneled toward them with lightning speed. The next two caught them by surprise. 

 

Glowing molerats, feral ghouls, and more radscorpions. The wasteland was throwing them everything it had and Adams was slipping away. By the time they made it to the crater, Danse felt like he'd been trapped in some kind of eternal limbo; a sick place stuck between night and day. Keeping irradiated critters from sneaking up behind him seemed to be Adams' only reason for going on, and that worried him. He tried to make conversation through the interface, but she remained either monosyllabic or unresponsive. They breached the edge of the crater some hours later, and Danse was horrified. The Children of the Atom had built a settlement at Ground Zero. Adams lead the way across bridges and through buildings towards what looked like a bunkhouse. 

"Stop right there, stranger." A woman stared them down menacingly. Her lower face was covered with weeping red sores; though she appeared neither ill nor in pain. "You approach Atom's holy ground. State your purpose or be divided in His Sight." 

"I'm looking for someone named Virgil." Adams told her hoarsely. 

"Yes. We know of this Virgil." The woman sounded surprised.

"I need some information from him. Will you tell me where he is?" The knight didn't sound like she was asking to Danse. 

"In truth, this Virgil has caused some concern. Some believe his presence is an affront to Atom. Though he came to trade with us on few occasions, we have had limited other contact with him. It's quite clear he wanted to be left alone." The scorn in the woman's voice was unmistakable. "You can find him south-west of the crater, living in a cave. I would approach cautiously, were I you. I feel he does not want visitors." 

 

They made their way south, out of the crater. "Adams, talk to me. Don't make me order you to speak." 

"What do you want, Danse?" The knight replied shortly. 

"I want to know what's wrong." The interface distorted the concern in his voice. 

"Can we just get this over with?" Adams snapped. "I promise you I will see Cade for a mental health consult when we get back; I will take a personal day or rest or do whatever the Hell you want me to do. Right now I just want to find Virgil and get the fuck out of here." 

"Understood, Knight. But you will do all of those things when we return or face my disappointment." He replied sternly. He didn't feel like arguing. The deathclaw struck from the east.  

Danse was tossed down the side of the crater while the thing advanced on Adams. He couldn't see her through the heavy yellow fog that covered fucking everything like a space blanket. He tried to use the V.A.T.S. on his power armor interface to no avail. 

"Knight Adams, are you there? What's going on?" He growled into the communication system. Through the fog he could see flashes of red from Righteous Authority, and he could hear the snarls and growling from the deathclaw. He was desperately trying to get a visual when the second one attacked. 

Danse rolled forward between its legs and it grasped at empty air, where he'd been standing a moment ago. A gnarled claw caught his knee and flung him ten feet in the air, over it's shoulder. He lay on his back, winded, hastily reloading his rifle. He shot six rounds into the creature's gut, but didn't bring it down. It roared in his face, jaws perilously close to his helm, looking frighteningly sharp. He twisted away, grabbing one curly horn to hoist himself up and over and stomped his boot down on the monster's neck. He was rewarded with a sickening crunch but the deathclaw still managed to thrust its head back up, causing Danse to stumble backwards.  

The deathclaw rounded on him as the corpse of the first deathclaw rolled down the hillside, distracting it. It opened its jaws to the sky with a murderous screech, a terrifying silhouette lit up by the lightning of yet another radstorm. Adams came hurtling out of nowhere and leapt onto its back, grabbing one horn and firing an entire cell pack through the back of its neck.

  

Finally it fell, knocking the paladin down. He felt Knight Adams crash into him as well, and winced at the pressure on his chest. They struggled up, supporting each other. "Ad victoriam, sir." Adams panted.  

"Outstanding work, Knight." _No matter what mood she's in, she always comes through._ Danse admired her integrity as he peered at the narrow, dark slit in the cliffside to the west.  

Adams yelped through the interface. "Knight?!" He exclaimed, turning in time to see the third deathclaw toss her down, wrapping it's needlepoint jaws around her helm. This one was easily twice the size of the last two, and had a faint green tinge woven through its skin. "Hell," Danse uttered; he was in it. 

He moved towards it, firing round after round after round. The thing could bleed, at least. It turned its attention to him, dropping Adams. The resulting _clunk_ from her power armor did not sound pleasant, and her body didn't stir from the ground. The deathclaw butted into his shoulder, and pinned him to a sharp rock. It roared deafeningly, and Danse saw drool dripping from its blackened, razor-sharp teeth. It bit into his helmet, and began crushing the armor around his neck. He felt a strange stinging feeling and realized with horror that its' saliva was corrosive. He fired eight more rounds into its belly but it didn't budge. _I'm going to die here._ It released his shoulder and went for his head. A .50 caliber bullet exploded out from one of its eyes and lodged itself in the rock directly above Danse's head.  

"Paladin?!" She was on him in a moment, unzipping her aid kit from her belt with one hand.

"I'm... okay," Danse coughed, tasting blood.  

She flopped awkwardly back on the ground beside him, cocking her rifle in her left hand, not letting her guard down. "How the fuck are we still alive?" She demanded bitterly, looking down. Her right arm was clearly snapped. One of her shins was crushed up to the knee cap. Danse could see blood dribbling through the cracks in her armor.  

"Adams," he held her still, trying to examine the damage without exposing her skin to the irradiated environment. 

"I can feel it bleeding inside me," she sounded almost amused. "I can't walk on it." 

"Adams," he said again, a warning this time. He stood up, and lifted her over his shoulder as gently as he could, and headed for the cave in the cliff. 

 

He brushed through the tin can chimes, grimacing. "I come in peace," he called to the darkness. "I am a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel. I need medical assistance." The answering silence filled him with dread. He passed a machine gun turret, and covered Adams' body defensively. It didn't blink its red signal for hostiles and he breathed a sigh of relief. The second turret also remained passive, as he passed through another rope of tin can chimes.  

A protectron unit headbutted a wall repeatedly in front of him. "Hold it. Take it nice and slow. No sudden moves."  

_I know that voice._ Every hair on Danse's body stood on end as he turned, pressing Adams closer to his chest. "Nate, don't tell me you'll be home soon if you don't mean it," she muttered softly, head lolling to one side.  

"I know you're from the Institute, so where's Kellogg? Huh? Trying to sneak up on me, while you distract me? It won't work!" The deep, rumbling voice was hysterical. Danse swallowed, and turned to face the super mutant. "I'm not stupid. I knew they'd send him after me." The mutant pushed its glasses up its nose, oddly reminding Danse of Quinlan. 

Every fiber of his being told him to drop Adams and turn the creature into an ozone-stinking puddle of ash. "I miss you, Nathan," Adams murmured in his arms, her voice pitifully tiny. "Come home." 

"Take it easy." Danse initiated the manual override sequence to release his helmet automatically. It _hiss_ ed open. "Kellogg is dead." 

"Dead?" The mutant stared back at him with wary yellow eyes. "He's... dead? Don't you lie to me!"  

"I'm not lying." He nodded at Adams. "She killed him herself." 

"Did she?" They both looked at the unconscious woman, mostly just a suit of power armor at that point. "Kellogg was ruthless. There's a reason the Institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years. I knew they'd send him after me. I tried to prepare for it. But I still wasn't sure I'd make it." 

 

The creature cleared a table with one swipe of a meaty forearm, and Danse lay Adams down on it. He removed her helmet slowly, looking for any sign of spinal damage. Thankfully she seemed pretty much intact. He applied two stimpacks to her carotid artery, wishing he could risk removing the rest of her armor and apply a couple to the femoral artery on her damaged leg as well; but he absolutely did not trust exposing her to this _abomination_. He wondered how he was going to get her out of the Glowing Sea alive. He kept up an uneasy truce with the super mutant. It was sentient, and it reminded him of Fawkes. He wondered if he should tell Arthur. He let his knight sleep, sitting beside her with his rifle trained on the greenskin. Every time the thing moved his finger twitched on the trigger. "Oh Nate," Adams started sobbing at one point. "Just leave. Just leave me here to die."  

"I won't," he growled at her, but he knew she wasn't talking to him.  

"She's running a fever," The mutant announced. 

"How the fuck do you know?" Danse hissed. 

"I can smell it." It bared all its teeth, inhaling. "No infection. Yet." 

Danse applied another stimpack, wondering how much more he could take. At the twelfth hour, he was fighting fatigue. He pressed two fingers to her pulse, watching her eyelids flutter. "Come on, Adams. You said you cared too much about me to leave me like this." 

"I wasn't lying," she croaked back, her eyes still closed. "Everything hurts." 

"Just so long as you're alive." Danse exhaled with intense relief. He could have kissed her. "I'll figure this out."  

In an hour or so she was ready to sit up. He bound her arm across her chest and splinted her leg, still in power armor.  

"And so. You killed Kellogg, eh?" The mutant sat down across from them. 

"Sure did," she glared at it sullenly, sipping slowly on some purified water. 

"Well then. What do you want with me?" 

"Why did you leave the Institute? I know you came from there." Adams demanded. 

"You know about the escape? But how?"  

"Wait," Danse interrupted. " _You're Doctor Virgi_ _l?_ " Adams and Virgil turned to stare at him, one face exasperated, the other filled with contempt. 

"It doesn't matter." Virgil responded to Adams, deciding to ignore Danse. "I'm not going back. I can't go back. Look at me." 

 

_You're an ugly piece of shit,_ Danse thought to himself, eyeballing the scientist in his most intimidating manner. 

"Why are you even here? What do you want?" Virgil was demanding now. 

"Everything you know about the Institute. I need to get in there." Adams deadpanned. 

"Can I... Are you joking?" 

"Does it fucking look like I'm joking?!" She snapped harshly, her whole body trembling.  

"You want to get into the Institute? Are you insane? Nevermind how nearly impossible that is, even if you were to succeed it would end in your immediate death. What reason could you possibly have for taking that kind of risk?" 

"I am trying to find my son. The Institute took him from me." Her voice broke, wrenching Danse's heart. 

"Oh. Oh no. I had no idea. I'm sorry. Yeah... the Institute has taken people from the Commonwealth in the past. If your son is one of them... I can understand..." Virgil trailed off. "I can help, but I want something in return." 

"Anything," Adams replied, surprised. 

"Now wait just a min-" Danse jerked his head up. 

"Before I had to escape, I was working on a serum that would serve as a cure for my condition." Virgil cut him off. "I wasn't able to bring it with me. It's still in my lab, and I need it. Look at me." 

"You help me, I'll help you." The knight told him stiffly. 

"Alright. Let's talk details. First things first. Do you know how synths get in and out of the Institute?" The sly look in his yellow eyes made Danse clench his jaw. _We are one step ahead of you, mutant._  

"Yeah. They use some kind of teleporter." The red-head sneered triumphantly. 

Virgil was taken aback. "Well, well. Not many know about it. It's a very closely guarded secret. You've certainly done your homework." He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose again. "It's more commonly referred to as the 'Molecular Relay'. I'm a bioscientist. I don't understand how it works, but it does. It... de-materializes you in one place; re-materializes you in another. I'm sure it sounds crazy, but it's a reality. The Relay is the only way in and out of the Institute. Do you understand? The. Only. One." 

 

"That means we're going to have to use it." Danse realized aloud. 

Virgil nodded in agreement. "Now, have you ever seen an Institute Coarser?" He thought of the dark man from Kellogg's memories.  

"Sure have." Adams vocalized his thoughts. 

"Coarsers are Institute synths, designed for one purpose. They're hunters." He bared his teeth in a frightening grin. "Operations... go wrong. A synth goes missing. A Coarser is dispatched. They are very good at what they do. You're going to have to kill one." Virgil pointed a green, sausage-like finger at the pair of Brotherhood soldiers, still grinning menacingly. _He doesn't believe we'll survive._  

"Why?" Adams asked, almost sweetly. Danse looked at her in surprise, but her grey eyes were filled with cunning.  

Virgil laughed, a coarse, hacking noise that grated on the ear. "Because you want to get into the Institute, remember? They're your ticket in. Every Coarser has special hardware that gives them a direct connection to the Relay in the Institute. It's embedded in a chip in their heads. You need that chip, and to get it, you need to find a Coarser. Now I don't know exactly where you can find one. They haven't sent any after me, and sitting here waiting doesn't seem like a good plan," 

Danse frowned. Perhaps he was right, and using the super mutant as bait wouldn't work. They certainly didn't have time to find out. 

"You're going to have to hunt one down. I can tell you where to start, and give you some help finding one, but you'll have to do the dirty work." He regarded Adams, seemingly serious. 

"What do I have to do?" She asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes again. 

"Listen up. The primary insertion point for Coarsers is in the ruins of C.I.T., directly above the Institute. So you'll want to head there. Now the Relay causes some pretty heavy interference all across the EM spectrum. You've got a radio on that PipBoy, right?" _The energy surges Haylen and I picked up. It_ ** _was_** _the Institute. We were right._ "When you get to the ruins, tune it to the lower end of the band and listen in. You'll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it will lead you to a Coarser. Then all you have to do is not get killed. Not gonna lie, the odds aren't in your favor here. But if you do make it, remember what I said about the serum. **I need it, badly.** "  

 

The last primal grunt reminded Danse of the plain, non-Institute variety of super mutants. Virgil regained control of himself, and grimaced at Adams painfully. "I really do hope you find what you're looking for." She responded with a single nod, not taking her eyes off of him for a moment. 

Finally, she turned back to Danse. "What do we do now?" Her expression was a medley of pain and fear and desperation.  

"I'll radio for a vertibird. I need the coordinates for our location off your PipBoy and I'll send them straight to Arthur." He clenched his jaw. "We can't say anything about our... contact... here being... _not human_. Not until we get back, anyway; I'll have a private word with Lancer-Captain Kells." He rubbed his face against his palms.  

"Paladin?" Adams quipped gently.  

_God, she can switch out kitten-softness_ _for hard steel in a heartbeat_ _. What_ _the Hell do I know about women?_ "What is it, Knight?" He peered down at her through his fingers, heart pounding.  

"You had my back out there today. I don't know many people who would take on a deathclaw for me." She sounded shy, but Danse knew better.  

"I'm your sponsor," he replied gruffly. "It's my job to keep your organs on the inside of your skin, Knight. Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm pretty sure it was you who scored three out of three today." 

Adams rolled her eyes. "Only because you distracted them for long enough to let me line up a shot. Ad victoriam!" She waved an invisible flag with her uninjured hand. 

"I dropped my guard out there. I almost let that third deathclaw tear you apart. If I had to witness that I don't think I would have a leg to stand on next time Knight-Captain Cade wants to lecture me on my piss-poor PTSD management." 

"Danse. We were attacked by _three deathclaws_. At the s _ame time_." She refused to back down. "I will not let you sit there and wallow in self-pity while I am still alive because of you." 

"Then don't expect me to stand by your side and let you 'wallow in self-pity' when you've avenged your husband's murder, rebuilt the Minutemen from the ground up, saved hundreds of innocent settlers, risen ranks and earned respect from the Brotherhood of Steel overnight, and killed enough raiders and super mutants and synths that history will argue over the exact number for a hundred years to come. Do you know people call you the Sole Survivor? That people sit awake at night and tell stories about you all over the wasteland from California to the Commonwealth?" Danse demanded. "I care about you, Adams. Like it or not, you have to pull your head in and see this through now." 

 

For the longest time she said nothing. Her gray eyes frosted over and despite running a fever, her anger radiated off her body like ice during nuclear winter. Danse held her gaze, unfazed. They both had demons to deal with. Adams had eased his misery and renewed his livelihood; a part of him he'd given up for dead. He would do the same for her, whatever it took. "I'm not getting a signal in here." He announced. "I have to go outside, and get up that cliff." 

"Of course, sir." She replied tonelessly.  

Danse compressed his helmet back on his head and headed out into the radstorm. 

_When I get back, I'm springing for a jetpack upgrade,_ he grumbled to himself, glaring at the sheer rock face above him. Two hundred years of wind from radiation had smoothed out most of the crumbling rock. He looked over the deathclaw carcasses; up at the summit of the crater. _That will have to do,_ he decided firmly. He wouldn't be gone as long as if he tried to scale the mountain. 

 

**DN-407P :** **MX-001** **E**  

**requesting** **vertibird evac, citing medical emergency. c** **o-ords pending response.**  

 

_And now we wait._ Danse shifted from foot-to-foot, anxious. He doubted the mutant would try anything but Adams would be defenseless in an altercation. _Come on, Arthur._  

 

**MX-001E : DN-407P**  

**medical** **evac granted. h** **ave co-ords from previous communication. l** **ow visibility in area, allow two hours forty five minutes. r** **equesting status update.**  

 

**DN-407P :** **MX-001E**  

**status** **update DN-407P, epistaxis, cervical puncture wounds, conscious and alert**  

**status** **update AA-111K, traumatic transverse avulsion fracture [forearm, R], crush injury [foreleg, R], suspected internal** **hemorrhage** **, pyrexia. Presently conscious and alert, non-ambulant**  

**deathclaw** **[3]; sixteen-thirty hours. a** **ll assailants deceased.**  

 

Danse didn't wait for a reply, instead returning to the cave. Adams had dozed off on the table; and in her sleep all her anger was washed clean away. "We'll be back." He told Virgil through his teeth, lifting the small knight off the table, her helmet firmly back on her head.  

"Good luck." He returned impassively. "You'll need it." 

 

- 

 

Danse and Maxson stood side by side, watching Cade put Adams under for surgery. It had been mutually decided to remove her power armor after she was under, and so Ingram and one of her knights stood off to the side as well, waiting to cart the pieces off to the workshop. Large, anxious eyes remained fixed on his face until the anesthetic kicked in, and Maxson finally spoke. "Three deathclaws." He shook his head slowly, watching Cade get to work. "That's one for the annals." 

"We should be dead." Danse replied, not looking at him. 

"You're not, thankfully. And we finally have a way into the Institute." 

"Virgil will only deal with Adams. She killed Kellogg single-handedly, he believes she's the only one who stands a chance against a... Coarser." The men turned away from the Prydwen's only surgical theater and headed for the officer's quarters. 

"Very well. Knight-Captain Cade puts Knight Adams at three months recovery. I have other projects to deal with in the meantime. When your charge is fit for travel, you will personally escort her to Sanctuary Hills and return here. I'm putting you on training duties. I need these recruits up to scratch for the war on the Institute." Elder Maxson had clearly gotten over his brooding and had returned to his usual confident, commanding demeanor.  

"Affirmative, sir." Danse felt too drained to argue. 

"Get some sleep, soldier. You look like Hell." 

 

Danse slept through the night, and through most of the next day. He showered, shaved, and had a quiet meal in the mostly empty mess. He went down to the recreational facility and sat at the public terminal. There was something sticky all over the keyboard.  

 

**DN-407P : AA-111K**  

**ready** **for visitors?**  

 

**AA-111K : DN407P**  

**thought** **you'd forgotten about me, sir.**  

 

Her almost instantaneous reply floored him. He didn't think she would be awake so soon, but if she was she'd be giving poor Knight-Captain Cade Hell. He headed back up to the medical office and poked his head around the door. Copper hair was fluffed around her face like a warm halo, and her grey eyes were snapped open, glaring at the scribe taking her vitals. "Good afternoon, sir." She smiled pleasantly at him as the scribe shuffled off awkwardly. Danse took a seat at the foot of her bed. 

"So it wasn't as bad as it looked then?"  

"Cade screwed my arm back together alright, and he sutured the puncture wounds from the deathclaw bite," the knight frowned impatiently. 

"Mine too." Danse peeled back his collar, displaying the stitches on his neck.  

"You're lucky it missed your carotid artery," Adams chastised, as though he'd asked the thing to bite him. She whipped her sheets to one side, revealing her right leg. Danse trailed his eyes from the perfect roundness of her ass, down one creamy white thigh to Just above her knee. Down from there to her slender ankle was swollen dark purple and black; mottled with red cracks where the distorted metal had cut into her flesh. Danse had seen Ingram's legs before Cade had amputated them and the comparison was frighteningly dead-on. "I got pretty lucky too, considering. No breaks, just bruising and swelling." Danse poked at her impossibly small toes and she scowled. 

"We had to cut her power armor off that leg with a saw." Cade appeared at Adams' bedside, shaking his head. "Three deathclaws?" He sighed at Danse. "Are we not getting enough action right here in Boston, for the two of you? You need to run off and clear out a deathclaw nest?" 

"It wasn't like that," Danse began to explain.  

"He's right, it was four deathclaws." Adams interrupted loudly, letting her voice echo out, down into the corridor. "Two pinned me down while the third one tried to take a bite out of my ass. Paladin Danse gunned all three down to save me, threw me over his shoulder and killed a fourth one on the way out. You'd be doing my autopsy if it wasn't for Danse." She batted her eyelashes at the men.

"Don't be ridiculous, Knight." Danse snapped, his cheeks heating up and his voice hitching. Cade and Adams laughed at him.  

 

Two days later it was seven deathclaws, and Danse had carried Adams in his arms all the way across the Glowing Sea on his own. Squires stared up at him, more bug-eyed and awed than ever. Some of the more confident Initiates made lude comments regarding Knight Adams; but the force of Danse's wrath soon put a stop to that. Oddly enough, they didn't like scrubbing Scribe Neriah's molerat pens with their toothbrushes until their calluses had calluses. On strict bedrest, Adams kept up their rapport with strings of communication so long that Danse wanted to confiscate her PipBoy and stomp on it in his power armor. But late at night, when his headaches plagued him and he couldn't sleep, he would re-read all of them from start to finish until his eyelids dropped and the atomic pounding settled into a dull, white noise in the back of his brain. On the third day, Cade and Danse loaded her up into a vertibird and headed for Sanctuary Hills. His hand was on the stretcher beside her, but he only noticed when she threaded her fingers through his. "You were right. About the whole self-loathing thing."  

Danse tightened his fingers between hers, glancing quickly at Cade. He was looking away, out the window as the Commonwealth passed them by. "Are you ready to talk about what happened in Goodneighbour?" He asked quietly. 

"I survived." She shrugged wistfully. "I'm out here, having a grand old time shooting up the Commonwealth, and Nate's dead. Everyone I ever knew is dead. And my son is ten years old. I'm scared that no matter how much I wish for it, lie awake at night thinking of nothing else, it's all for nothing. My boy doesn't even know me. He'll never know his father. That's all I can think about. I've failed as a wife, as a mother... I keep failing, over and over. I can't take much more of this." 

"Survivor's guilt." Danse understood. "I know how that feels, even if I can't fathom losing a child like that. But you aren't a failure, Adams. Far from it. If there was some way I could make you see that, I would." 

"Knowing you've got my back makes the burden lighter. I can be more of myself around you. I don't know how or why, and it doesn't make any sense but it's the truth. Being with you makes me feel like myself. I just want you to know." She looked up at him earnestly. 

He gave her a lop-sided grin. "Your ability to articulate exactly everything I want to say is uncanny." 

"Well. I was a lawyer." Adams laughed. 

"One day I'm going to make you sit down and explain to me exactly what that is." He shook his head, smiling to himself. 

 

They arrived roughly inside Sanctuary Hills. Garvey and Sturges were already waiting, unsurprised to see them. "My God, don't bother keeping the place tidy while I'm gone, Sturges!" Adams exclaimed affectionately. Sturges groaned outwardly. 

"We've made some improvements to the water purifier since you left, and I can't wait to show you the farms. The place is thriving, and it's all thanks to you, General." Preston was as quietly confident as ever, addressing Adams. 

"We have also taken into consideration your plans for the rec room," Sturges drawled with a grin. "Although some of the folks 'round here may want to take a shot at you with a pool cue after we dragged a velvet-covered table half-way 'round the Commonwealth."  

"You guys didn't have to do that for me," A soft smile had crept over the knight's face. "When I'm up to walking you'll have to show me everything, I can't wait to see how the brah-" 

Cade cleared his throat, and Adams paused. "I'll be back every two weeks to check in. You won't be all stitched up for long. Remember that you're on bedrest, Knight. Elder Maxson needs you back in the field as soon as possible." Cade admonished Adams, mostly for Garvey and Sturges' benefit. "When you're ready Paladin Danse, we'll head back to the Prydwen." 

"When you said you'd make me take a personal day or else, Paladin, I had no idea you'd feed me to a deathclaw just to get me out of the field." Danse's jaw twitched as grey eyes regarded him with amusement. 

"This isn't what I had in mind." He replied.  

"Well I won't keep you from your work, Danse. Get out there and make me proud, soldier!"  

_Adams' bantering drives me up the wall._ The paladin shook his head. "Promise me you'll continue forwarding communication. I won't be as hard on the squires and the initiates if I'm not worrying about you all the time."  

"I sincerely doubt that," she retorted, and she was probably right. "You're looking forward to endless training drills and making recruits recite protocols in their sleep, like the sadistic CO that you are, aren't you?"  

Danse closed his eyes, defeated. "How did you know?" 

"Was that sarcasm, sir? I hope my bad habits aren't rubbing off." 

"I hate to interrupt, Paladin Danse, but the vertibird could be drawing some unwanted attention towards Sanctuary. It makes folks around here nervous." Garvey stepped up to Adams' side as he and Sturges supported her weight. 

"Of course, Garvey. I'll be off then." He stepped back, but Adams' hand brushed his and she pulled him close. He inhaled in surprise, accidentally catching a whiff of her clean, shiny hair. Tentatively, he reached his hands around her waist, slowly sinking into her embrace. He couldn't recall ever being touched by someone quite like this. He buried his face in her neck, his eyes strangely wet, before pulling away quickly.  

"Stay safe, Danse." She told him softly. "I'll be back as soon as I can." 

He watched her turn away, lifted by Garvey and leaning on Sturges. Cade saluted him from the vertibird with a smug smile as he trudged towards it. "Teagan owes me fifty caps." The knight-captain folded his arms, satisfied, as the vertibird took off.

"Why?" Danse groaned.

"With all those rumors going around about the two of you making sweet love in a cave full of deathclaw corpses, Proctor Teagan thought you might actually kiss her. Too bad Ingram and I know you better." Cade laughed heartily as Danse stared nonchalantly over the Commonwealth. He didn't tell the medic that he wished he had. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this was so long. Except I'm not, really. I did try and break this section in to two pieces for easy reading but I just couldn't pick a point in the middle where I could get an ending to make sense. I need to work on my cliffhanging, clearly. The only issue with that is when I have to take a break from my own writing, to finish a stupid report on the hypothalamus and its role in homeostasis or something, and I've just gone and left a cliffhanger. Then I have to deal with that distracting me from my ever important homework. 'Just one more sentence' becomes 'just one more paragraph' which becomes 'oh look, this piece is done, better edit it and stick it on AO3'. Which then becomes a whole 'nother night of not getting any work done and by the time I get to bed my partner has stolen all the bedsheets and blankets. 
> 
> I like using these notes for introspective reflection. When I go over my own work for editing I can kind of see what state of mind or consciousness I was in when I edited each part and that gives me some idea of what I need to work and improve on; which happens to also be a useful skill for uni assignments. You get better at stuff by doing, not sitting around wishing.


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